


fresh flowers and the faint smell of smoke

by sympathique (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Tattoos, gOTTA LOVE ME THAT OT4 OK IM OBSESSED, i want to make this fic cracky but the first chap is already too serious fuck me, maybe smut, probably mild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sympathique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a rarepair in a flowershop/tattoo parlor au, what else could be better?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one.

As soon as the man walks in, Wonwoo knows he messed up. In the busy, winding streets of Seoul, the only thing that can take everything off of his mind is reading books and gardening. One of the reasons he had decided to ask his father for the flower shop in the first place. He was known in that area of Seoul as a mama’s boy, the perfect son, every girl’s dream type. Sometimes, it really got on his nerves. About half of his customers were either fangirls or old ladies that wanted to talk to someone. It was thoroughly sad, really. But today, he knows he’s messed up when the man walks into his shop.

The last time he had seen the other’s face, it was underneath him, moaning and writhing, both of them covered in sweat and drunk off their asses. Wonwoo didn’t like to bring up that night, especially since it was after the day his father had left. What business could a retired flower shop owner have? Well- Wonwoo didn’t know either. He hoped that the other didn’t remember the night, especially since it had been _quite_ a mess after.

Once he gets a clear shot of the man’s face, the first thing that stands out is the bloodshot eyes and scowl that seems to be permanently stuck on the pretty man’s face. He slowly walks towards the counter, taking his time, and shoves a hand in his pocket, pulling out two 10.000 won banknotes, slamming them on the counter. He opens his mouth to say something, but then clears his throat before actually saying the words.

“What’s the politest way to say ‘fuck you’ in flower?” He coughs, shoving both hands into his coat pockets. Wonwoo looks at the man’s face for some sort of expression, or emotion, a sense of recognition- but nothing comes. Either the man doesn’t remember, or just wants to make a fool of Wonwoo. Probably the latter. He thinks for a moment, inspecting the various amount of tattoos displayed on his arms. Most of them are pictures of botanical drawings, some of landscapes, words in other languages.

Finally, he comes up with the perfect idea. “Well, you’ll first need a whole bouquet of geranium, foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnations- maybe some orange lilies in there for extra,” He lists right off his head, taking out his glasses while he’s at it. “Maybe add a little card for extra.” He smiles, like the smart-ass he is. It’s obvious the man’s impressed, not saying a word. Finally he does, and it’s the words that Wonwoo’s been dreading to hear.

“Don’t I know you?” The man slyly purrs, putting both elbows on the counter, raising an eyebrow. The stench of smoke lingers in the air, causing Wonwoo to scrunch up his nose in disgust. But he can’t help but be entranced by the other- Oh god, he hates to admit it, but he enjoyed that night so much. He craves more. He’s practically willing to beg for it at this point.

Wonwoo knows he has to control the urges though- he shakes his head. “I don’t believe so.” He mutters, ducking under the counter quickly, as if there was something there he had forgotten to take. Coming back up, he takes the two bills, putting them in the cash register and finally giving him back the correct amount of change, counting it as he puts it into the other’s hands. They both stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, before the other man walks out, waving a hand, not saying anything else.

…

A few days past, and Wonwoo’s done a good job ignoring any thoughts that correlate with the mystery man. The boy down the street- Mingyu comes every now and then, raving about a tattoo artist near the end of the road. Like he cares. But it’s fine, they’ve been childhood friends ever since they were born, he wouldn’t have said it to the other’s face.

After a long day of boring customers, the man finally walks in, as Wonwoo’s about to close. This time, upon inspection, it seems that the man has been sleeping better (his eyes glossed over). His hair is tussled to a side, while his eyes dart to every corner of the place, seeming like they’re inspecting the room. It takes them both a few seconds to snap back into reality, Wonwoo standing behind the desk yet again, while the other holds an unlit cigarette between his teeth, the scowl still there. 

No words are passed between the two of them, but they both know what they’re thinking. Wonwoo delicately picks up a glass vase, holding dozens of flowers in it. It’s quite beautiful, if you disregarded the fact that it was all for the sake of pissing someone off. There’s a card attached to it, blank. The other seems to get the note, hastily picking up the pen that’s been left on the counter and scribbling a message in dirty Korean. A sigh comes from the man as he picks up the glass vase. It looks like it could shatter at any second.

“See you later kid.” The man calls out, the words muffled from the cigarette. Before he leaves, he struggles to get something out of his pocket. Finally, he slaps the item (a piece of paper) on the counter, leaving without any more words. Wonwoo hesitantly picks up the paper- it seems that it’s been crumpled a thousand times, but he can still make out some writing. On it is the man’s name, Xu Minghao. Whatever that means. There’s also a phone number, and something else in another language similar to the words on the man’s arms. He tucks the piece of paper into his back pocket, treading towards the door to close up shop.

Later, Mingyu comes over, and they both contemplate what they should do the next day. Wonwoo’s reminded of the man, but doesn’t bring it up. It seems that the tattoo artist and the man have the same number. Everything’s fine, he guesses.


	2. deux.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wonwoo messes up (for the trillionth time)

Fiddling with the piece of paper, Wonwoo looks down at it to see that it’s basically deteriorating in his hands. The writing is barely readable now, but it’s fine. He has already put the number on his phone but can’t help but feel a bit sentimental about the paper. A bit unusual, seeing as they just formally met. None of this deter the man though. A bit too passionate about the other- he doesn’t realize this himself. Oh well, it’s what being cooped up in a flower shop does to you.

He finally sets down the piece of paper, taking a deep breath. The only noises in the shop at the moment are Mingyu’s snores from the back of the room, muffled by the magazine covering his head. Taking his phone out of his back pocket, Wonwoo is confronted with a photo of a drunk Mingyu- a reminder from last night. This makes him chuckle a bit, but doesn’t dwell too much on the picture and quickly goes to contacts. Taking another breath, he finally decides to call Minghao.

The phone rings a bit too long, and Wonwoo’s not a patient man. Before he can hang up though, the noise suddenly clears and an unrecognizable voice is on the other line.

After a few moments of silence, an unrecognizable voice speaks up, “…Hello?” They call out. The person (who Wonwoo presumes is male) speaks with an unknown accent, not something a native from Korea would say. It’s still audible though, and that’s what really matters. Fumbling with the phone, Wonwoo tries to say something, but it only comes out as a stutter. Covering the phone he rolls his eyes back, and puts it back up to his ear. 

“Yeah. Uh- may I talk to...” He takes a moment to glance at the paper, squinting, as he isn’t wearing his glasses. He finally comes up with the name, hurrying to say it back into the phone. “Minghao?” He asked with a tone of embarrassment, wincing as he hears his echo coming back from the line. There’s a small grunt as the person on the other line sets the phone down, and a few seconds later Wonwoo can hear someone picking the phone back up.

A sigh comes from the other end, and then that voice, “Finally. Took you fucking long enough to call.” The voice is unmistakably the same as the beat up man from yesterday. Wonwoo’s heart almost melts at the sound of his voice- even if it does sound slightly annoyed. Before he can fanboy over the man’s voice, he shakes his head. Get to the point, then hang up. He takes too long though, and another sigh comes from Minghao. It’s followed by small laugh, not genuine- but at least he’s trying.

“Um- It’s only been what, a day?” Wonwoo ponders, his words laced with confusion and derision. Another laugh comes from the other side again, maybe this time, real. Both of them are silent for the longest time, so silent that he can hear Mingyu from all the way across the room again. 

“Well since you aren’t going to ask anytime soon,” Minghao complains, a huge sigh coming from the other end. Wonwoo can imagine him sitting on his front porch, smoking a cigarette, thoroughly disappointed in his actions. “Yeah. I’ll go on a date with you.” He says that with a hearty laugh, and then the line dies. Wonwoo’s left speechless for a moment, the rustle of papers in the background, coming from Mingyu. Millions of things suddenly rush through his head, but he can’t grab onto any of them. Maybe it’s a dream. He hopes it isn’t. He’s wanted this for so, so long. Shit- that makes him sound thirsty (not like he isn’t).

…

It’s almost midnight, and Mingyu has returned back to his apartment across the street. It pains himself just to think about it, but Wonwoo has known for years of the secret admiration Mingyu holds for him. It’s not like he doesn’t return the feelings- it’s just that he never really wanted to interfere with family politics. Both of their fathers had been good friends- he didn’t want to break that strong bond that they held together. It was more of a mutual ‘I’d totally be down and I think you’d be down if we both asked but none of us are going to ask so we’ll just stay really good friends’. 

Wonwoo lives in the studio upstairs- always has ever since his father had bought the store. Surprisingly, he gets a good amount of customers every week to keep the store running. He figures it’s about time that he heads upstairs so he can get ready for tomorrow. He’s halfway up the stairs when two loud bangs comes from the front of the shop, an exasperated groan coming from Wonwoo. He knows exactly who it is. Squinting, from the windows he can see a silhouette. 

For fuck’s sake. It’s almost 1 AM, all Wonwoo wants to do is sleep goddammit. But he treads to the door anyways, rubbing his eyes as he lazily opens the door. In steps in Minghao, maybe a bit brighter than he usually is, dark circles around his eyes. He dons a small smile, a light blush on his cheeks. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” Wonwoo asks, taking a chair in the corner of the shop, followed by Minghao as they both slump back into the chairs. He ruffles his own hair, messing it up just for the sake of it. Minghao smirks, and pulls out a cigarette pack from his coat pocket. Messing with the box flap, he takes two out, sliding one towards Wonwoo, placing the other in between his two teeth, letting it sit there for a while.

“Well- I just assumed that you weren’t doing anything.” He shrugs, words tossed around here and there. Taking out a lighter (it looks as if it was thrown on the ground hundreds of times- it’s a wonder how it’s still functional), lighting it up as Wonwoo watches the flame. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo places the cigarette in his mouth- he hasn’t smoked in a few years. His father would be severely disappointed in him if he were to see the scene unfold. 

Both of them moved closer together, the flame lighting both of their cigarettes at the same time. A bit cliché- huh. Wonwoo took a drag from the lit cigarette, a sense of regret washing over him as he began to cough violently. After a few back pats from the awkward Minghao, he chuckled. He was such an idiot. 

“You can’t handle it?” Minghao raised an eyebrow, taking the object out of his mouth. He chuckled again, covering his mouth with his palm as he did so. It was a wonder how the man made himself seem so cute, while in reality he looked dead inside. For some reason, Wonwoo was mad at the man. He should’ve been glad right? After all, he had been thirsting for him for oh so long, it was a wonder how he hadn’t died along those few days.

Wonwoo stood up, sending his chair back, the metal seat making a searing noise. Dropping his cigarette on the floor, he crushed it with his shoe, making sure that it wasn’t lit. He walked up to the other, grabbing his shirt collar and forcing him to get up. It was pretty hard, but he managed to make the man stand up. Pushing him against the wall, Wonwoo was a bit surprised that there was no struggle. It was almost like the man allowed it- he was so relaxed. Wonwoo didn’t let this phase him- soon enough both of their faces basically touching now.

“Don’t come into my fucking house in the middle of the night and tell me that I’m weak-” He grunted, quickly realizing that he shouldn’t have done that. Wincing in pain, he felt a sharp burn directly on his palm. Quickly backing up, he held onto his right hand, glaring at Minghao. 

After a few moments of Wonwoo groaning in pain, Minghao flashed him a pitying smile. “Don’t mess with me.” He snapped, putting the cigarette back into his mouth. Wonwoo watched him walk out of the building, leaving nothing behind. Yep. He had fucked up. He knew it. It was stupid of him to confront the man in the first place- God. How could he have been so stupid? Was the other playing hard to get? Fuck- he needed to stop. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i had to redo that chapter twice- but i dont have school until like 2 months so might as well  
> but yooooo thughao in the house  
> //finger guns  
> had a little fun with this one, changed the plot around a bit, kinda confused on why i made it like this but hahahahhahahahahahahaa im dead inside
> 
> edit: HOLY SHIT THE FORMAT IS WRONG FUCK I MESSED UP SHit


End file.
